Late Night Conversations
by annajmac989
Summary: Various Harry Potter characters share late night conversations. Rated K
1. Chapter 1

Late Night Conversations

**Hello there everyone! Late Night Conversations is going to be a chapter fic, but each chapter is going to be a one-shot, each set in a different time and with different characters. This first one is with Ginny and Hermione. It's set in GOF, the first night of the Quidditch World Cup. Enjoy, and please review!**

"Goodnight girls!" said Mr. Weasley, kissing Ginny's forehead and winking at Hermione. "And don't stay up too late. It'll be the time-out chair for me if you two get home and Molly thinks you're sleep deprived." Ginny rolled her eyes, but Hermione nodded earnestly.

"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, we'll get to bed soon. Goodnight!" The two girls silently walked over to their tent. It was smaller than the boys' and smelled like cats, but they would have it all to themselves.

"Erm…I'm going to go put on my pajamas," said Hermione awkwardly. She had known Ginny for two years, but they weren't exactly best friends, and Hermione didn't know how to talk to her. The only friends she had ever had were boys.

"Okay," said Ginny cheerfully, plopping down onto a sagging armchair and pulling several chocolate frogs out of her sock. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Hey, when you have six brothers you've got to know how to properly hide food." Hermione laughed and walked over to the bedroom, pulling pajamas out of her trunk as she went. She brushed her teeth and washed her face, and then pulled out a new textbook and went back into the living room. Ginny was still lounging there, stuffing chocolate into her mouth. _Just like Ron,_ Hermione thought with a smile. Ron… She was very confused when it came to Ron. She didn't quite know what to think about him. She knew her feelings for Ron were different than her feelings for Harry, but she didn't quite know why.

Internally shaking herself, Hermione opened her book and started the chapter on Summoning Charms. But after a few minutes, Hermione realized she wasn't really reading at all. Her eyes were flitting across the pages, but once the words entered her brain, they were lost in a myriad of other thoughts. She wasn't comprehending anything. _What's wrong with me? This never happens! _No matter how hard she tried to fight it, her thoughts kept traveling back to earlier that day.

She was screaming and falling out of the sky; her fingers were still on the portkey. And then suddenly the ground appeared. Hermione landed heavily, right on top of Ron. Immediately she hopped up and apologized, her neck feverishly hot. But then she stopped to think about it. She had never been that close to Ron before. It was rather nice. That was when she noticed the other things. Not only was Ron taller than the previous school year, but he had filled out; he wasn't as lanky. And he had rather nice arms. And his eyes were the loveliest shade of blue: deep like the ocean, but gentle, like the evening sky. And at that moment, they were wide with the realization that Hermione had just been lying on top of him. His ears turned red.

A cough brought Hermione back to the present.

"So, Hermione," said Ginny mischievously, "do you like anyone?" Hermione knew where this was going.

"Yeah, sure," she said quickly, "I like a lot of people. My parents, my classmates, my teachers, the-"

"Oh, come _on_ Hermione! You know what I mean! Do you _fancy_ anyone?"

"Fancy? No, of course I don't. I'm not that kind of girl." She didn't fancy anyone did she? There were only two boys she _could_ fancy, anyway: Harry and Ron. Harry was like her brother, and Ron…No. Just no.

"What do you mean 'I'm not that kind of girl'? You don't have to be a slut just to fancy someone."

"No, that's not what I meant. And don't say that Ginny, that's a bad word!" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Then what _did_ you mean?" Hermione was silent for a few moments. She hadn't talked about this to anyone except for her mother.

"Well…Look at me Ginny. I'm not exactly what you would call pretty. So I just can't fancy anyone. He'll never fancy me back, and then I would be heartbroken. No, it's better to not fancy anyone, ever." Ginny frowned.

"I think you're pretty," she said quietly. "And any boy who only cares about what you look like wouldn't be a good boyfriend anyway." Hermione smiled.

"Thanks Ginny."

"Sure, anytime. But _come on_, you've got to fancy _someone_!"

"Here we go again," muttered Hermione, trying not to smile.

"It's not like you _choose_ who you're going to fancy. You can't help it! It's like a disease!"

"A disease?" said Hermione. "You seem to know a lot about this fancying stiff." Ginny blushed.

"Don't you change the subject on me, Hermione. Tell me!"

"Shush, Ginny, do you want you dad to hear? And I'm telling the truth. I don't fancy anyone." Ginny pulled a skeptical face. "Seriously! There are only two boys I could like: Harry and Ron. Harry is like my brother, I could never like him! Even if I _wanted_ to fancy him I couldn't; he doesn't make me feel anything."

"_Harry_ doesn't make you feel anything? So are you saying that _Ron_ makes you feel things?"

"What!? No! Well, not romantic things…But he does make me angry. And he makes me feel annoyed, and sometimes sad and hurt. But then other times he makes me happy, and he makes me laugh and can relax me when I'm stressed. And sometimes he even makes me feel, well, giddy."

"Giddy?"

"Yeah… And sometimes my stomach knots up when I'm around him, but I don't know why." Ginny stared at Hermione for a full thirty seconds before collapsing on the floor in a fit of giggles.

"What!?"

"Her-Hermione," gasped Ginny, "You're so naïve! You _so_ fancy Ron!"

"Excuse me? No I do _not_!"

"Oh, don't even deny it. You know you do." Hermione considered this for a moment.

"Well…I wouldn't go so far as to say I _fancy_ him…"

"Yeah, okay." They looked at each other for a moment before Ginny started laughing again. Hermione sighed, picked up her book, and pretended to read. When Ginny had stopped laughing and had regained her breath, Hermione said,

"So who do _you_ like, Ginny?" Ginny pulled her famous skeptical face.

"Oh please, don't feign ignorance. I'm pretty sure the whole _world_ knows who I fancy."

"Harry?"

"Yup."

"Hmmm. Well if you like him so much, why do you never talk to him?"

"Do you seriously think that it's my choice that I don't talk to Harry?" exclaimed Ginny. "I _can't_ talk to him! I get too nervous. It's like every time I see those green eyes I freeze up, my tongue stops working, and I feel like I'll puke!"

"Lovely."

"I'm serious Hermione! Can you help me?" Now it was Hermione's turn to assume the skeptical expression.

"Me? You're asking me, the girl who didn't even know she fancied someone, to help you with your love life?" Ginny nodded. "Well actually, I'm probably a good person to help you. I've known Harry long enough that I know how he thinks; I know exactly what he would want in a girl."

"And what's that?"

"He would want someone that's natural and can act herself around him, and that doesn't care about his fame." Ginny pouted.

"But I can't act like myself around him! I try so hard, but I just can't! What do I do!?" Hermione thought for a moment.

"Do you want my honest advice?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, but I don't think you're going to like it." Ginny stared at her expectantly. "I think you should go out with some other guys."

"What!?"

"You heard me."

"But-but I fancy Harry. I'll never be able to like anyone else!"

"How do you know? You've never tried."

"Okay…So say I _did_ go out with another guy. What would that do? How would that make Harry like me?"

"I think if you went out with another guy, and started liking him-to a certain degree- you might like Harry a little less, and you two might become friends. And then Harry will see how awesome you are, and he'll start to fancy you." Ginny was silent for so long that Hermione thought she had fallen asleep. But when she glanced over, she saw that Ginny was just deep in thought.

"Yeah…" she said slowly. "Yeah, you're right Hermione. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome Ginny. And thank you too. Thank for helping me come to terms with feelings that I had been pushing away." Ginny nodded and stifled a yawn from beneath her hand. "Okay, we really need to get to bed now; I told your dad that we would go to bed early!"

The two girls crawled into bed and quickly feel asleep. Many times in the future would they be thankful for the friendship that had started that night.

**So, did you like it? Did you hate it? Please let me know! PS, the next chapter is a late night conversation between Ron and Harry **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone! This one shot is a Ron and Harry one. NO SLASH! Just wanted to make that clear **

Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating Ron Weasley's pale face. His eyes were open and roaming restlessly around the room, desperately searching for something to distract him from any thought of the coming day. Propping himself up on his elbow, he reached for the little velvet box on his bedside. He imagined her laughing and crying at the same time, fervently nodding as he slipped the ring onto her finger. But there was another image in his mind. He was kneeling on the ground, smiling nervously as he always does. She put her hands to her mouth, not in joyful surprise, but in horror. She shook her head in pity and backed away, leaving Ron kneeling on the ground alone. _You don't deserve her,_ said a voice in his head. It was like a remnant of the heartless voice of the locket. _ You'll never deserve her._

Ron dejectedly got out of bed, his plaid pajama pants hanging three inches too short, and padded to the kitchen. At least the fridge wouldn't say no **(A/N, do wizards have fridges? I wasn't sure…)**. There was a light on in the kitchen; Harry was sitting at the table eating ice cream and going over papers for the Auror office.

"Bad dreams?" Ron asked. Harry didn't even look up.

"No worse than usual. Negativity?" Ron sat down at the table, put his face in his hands, and sighed. Harry tossed the Daily Prophet across the table. "Check out the front page."

Ron unfurled the paper and scanned the front page. The headline read, _Hermione Granger, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Fights for House Elf Freedom._ He smiled. "She's amazing, isn't she?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "and she's got nice skin too, doesn't she Ron?"

"Yeah, as far as skin goes. But the Prophet's got it wrong again. She isn't fighting for House Elf freedom, she's just trying to get them better working conditions and a salary."

"What else is new?" Harry asked. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were still trying to tell everyone that I'm the bloke who's trying to ruin the world and Voldemort's the hero." Ron laughed for a moment, but then grew quiet. Her ran his hand nervously through hair, and then buried his face in his hands.

"Do you really think she's going to say no?

"Weren't you nervous when you proposed to Ginny?"

"Actually, I was pretty confident."

"Yeah, but you're the famous, flawless Harry Potter."

"Just because I was confident doesn't mean I wasn't a little nervous. Even then I still felt like she hadn't forgiven me for leaving her."

"_You_, for leaving _her_?" Ron asked incredulously. "At least you leaving Ginny was for something noble, and you gave her reasons for breaking up with her! You did it to protect her! Remember when I left you and Hermione? Yeah, that wasn't noble. It wasn't for "The Greater Good". The only person I was thinking of when I left was myself. If either of those two girls has a reason to be unforgiving, it's Hermione!" Ron broke off, embarrassed of the tears beading up in his eyes. He knew Hermione had forgiven him, but that didn't mean he had forgiven himself.

"You're right Ron, sorry." Ron looked up, surprised. Harry usually fought back. "But she does forgive you."

"Yeah… And it's alright mate. Sorry for yelling, just nervous I guess." Harry nodded; he understood.

"She really does love you, you know."

"You think?" Ron's voice cracked.

"I _know_. I've heard her say it enough. But that's not how I know. I know by the way she looks at you. It's different than how she looks at anyone else. It's like just the sight of you is all she needs."

"You're certainly observant. Have you been checking out my girlfriend, mate?" Harry grinned.

"Let's just say even if I wanted to, that eagle- eyed fiancée of mine would notice and hit me where it really hurts." Ron laughed.

"I wouldn't put it past her." Suddenly Ron realized that he was very tired; he felt much better.

"I'm going back to bed," he said to Harry. "And…Thanks a lot Harry. I feel loads better."

"You're welcome. And I have to leave early tomorrow, so, good luck mate."

"Thanks," said Ron, "but I don't think I'll need to anymore."

The next morning, when Ron got down on one knee, Hermione's reaction was just what he hoped it would be.

**So did you guys like it? Let me know what you thought! Oh, and everything belongs to JK Rowling **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns all the characters. **

**A Late Night Conversation Between Molly And Arthur**

Arthur Weasley awoke suddenly to the sound of clanging dishes. He reached over to the other side of the bed; it was empty. With a sigh he sat up and stretched. The sky outside was dark blue, almost black, and speckled with silver stars.

Arthur slipped out of bed and tip-toed into the hallway, careful not to awaken any of his children. For the past few weeks, dreams had been so much better than reality. Unless you were having the nightmares.

Slowly he went down the stairs, rubbing exhaustion out of his eyes from behind his glasses. At the door of the kitchen he stopped in mid- yawn. There was his beautiful Molly. She was in a robe and had bare feet. Her red hair was disheveled, and her shoulders were shaking. Nothing hurt Arthur more than seeing her cry.

"Molly." She jumped and turned around.

"Oh, Arthur you scared me. What are you doing up?" She started to dry her red eyes with her robe.

"What are _you_ doing up?"

"Well, I just thought I would get some housework done. Those boys made a mess of the kitchen last night, and I didn't want it to be messy for breakfast." She sniffled and smiled slightly, then turned back to the sink.

"Molly," Arthur said again, "you don't have to act like nothing happened when you're with me. You don't have to pretend. You're not going to make me feel any worse than I already do. You can let it go." Molly didn't say anything, and she didn't turn around, but her hands stopped scrubbing; he knew she was listening.

"I can understand why you do it in front of the kids sometimes, but why do you do it in front of me? We used to be able to talk about anything, Molly, but now that Fred…now after the war, I feel like we can't. I feel like you've locked yourself away. And it hurts." Arthur immediately felt guilty after saying those words, but they were true. There were times when Molly would sob nonstop, even in front of the kids, and then there were the times when she pretended nothing had ever happened. She would be falsely cheery and wouldn't talk to Arthur about the war. He knew she was only doing it to try to make the kids happier, but if he was being honest with himself, it was the latter that pained him the most.

At his words, Molly seemed to shrink. She bowed her head down and hid it in her hands; her whole body wracked with sobs and she collapsed onto the floor. Arthur's own eyes beaded with tears as he knelt down and wrapped his arms around her.

"Shh, Molly. Shh," he said as he stroked her hair. She wasn't sure what else to say. 'It's okay' would be a pointless lie. Nothing would be okay for a long time.

"I just miss him so m-much!" Molly said between sobs. "I-I can't-" she broke off and hid her face in her hands.

"Can't what?" Arthur whispered. Molly hesitated, and then started to cry even harder.

"I can't help th-thinking of all the times that I yelled at him. I j-just wish I could go back…go back and hug him and kiss him and tell him I love him! Because I'm not sure if he knew how much I did!" Molly let out a wail and hid her face in Arthur's neck.

"Molly!" he said, almost angry at his wife for thinking such a thing. "Molly, listen to me." He waited patiently for the sobs to quiet and her breath to stop shuddering. "He loved you so much, Molly. And he knew that you loved him too. You know how I know that? Right before the Battle of Hogwarts, I told him to be safe. He said, 'You too Dad. Mum would be a wreck without you.' And I said, 'She would be a wreck without you too.' He nodded solemnly and said, 'I know she would.' And then he ran off.

"So do you see? Just because you yelled at him a lot doesn't mean you didn't love him. You were just trying to help him be better. He was mature enough to at least know that. So please Molly, don't have any regrets about Fred. He wouldn't want you to."

It was several moments before Molly replied. "You're right Arthur. You're right about everything. Fred wouldn't want me to have regrets. I'm sorry. I was being stupid."

"No," he said with a small smile, "you were being a mother." She laughed, and Arthur's insides seemed to do summersaults, just like they did the first time he met her. It was a beautiful sound.

"Thanks Arthur, for always making me feel better." Arthur nodded and said,

"And people say that gingers don't have souls!" Molly just stared at him. "It's a Muggle expression." She started to roll her eyes, but then caught sight of the clock.

"Good heavens! Look at the time! You get yourself up to bed right now, Arthur." He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Anything for my Mollywobles."

**Sorry I have been gone for so long. I'm not really sure what happened, to be honest. But hopefully I'm back for good! Please review!**


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